Thirteen O'clock
by Freyja SilverWillow
Summary: A year after Sarah's ordeal with Jareth, she is still plagued by her feelings for him and peaches . Each night, a snowy owl sits in the tree, looking in her bedroom window, not saying a word, but manages to turn her world upside down again...
1. Thirteen O'Clock

Greetings all! I...um...well, I'm back, with this wonderful little thing my muse woke up to allow me to write. I seem to love these waffy thoughtful things, don't I? Speaking of, I always thought the Goblin King's name was spelt Jerith, but it appears I was lying to myself all this time, when I turned the caption to the movies on and his name was in fact, Jareth. --;; And for your comfort, since I abhor reading/seeing stories with self- insertions, I spared you the same pain. I take a little dip into the movie before moving into my fic. Kudos all!  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own it. Wish I did. Don't. Never will. But I do own the soundtrack, and I'm not afraid to use it!  
  
For those with the soundtrack, tracks 7, 9 and 10 go great when reading this.  
  
A big, huge hug and thanks to Rain-chan on this one. You're my inspiration! -floats away on a coal powers cloud-  
  
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Coming to the edge before her, Sarah looked out. Stilling, her eyes riveted on her brother, a mere twenty feet below her. "Toby..." A mild debate went on in her mind, before she bit her lip, and jumped...  
  
Her descent slowed to what one would call floating instead of falling. The room crumbled before her eyes, suspended in a void of darkness and supernatural light. Landing softly on her feet, she looked around, until Sarah saw something- or rather, someone- deep in the gloom.  
  
Clothed in white, Jareth stepped out of the shadows with the starts of a Cheshire cat smile on his lips. The two regarded each other in silence for a few moments before Sarah finally broke the stillness.  
  
"Give me the child."  
  
"Sarah, beware." He walked towards and around her, much like a hawk would prey, but with something hauntingly different in mind. "I have been generous up until now. I can be cruel."  
  
Annoyance clouded Sarah's eyes. "Generous?" She tilted her head, almost mockingly. "What have you done that's generous?"  
  
"Everything!" Jareth fought to control his anger at her refusal to see him as nothing more than a wicked, twisted king using other people -using her- for his own pleasure. "Everything you wanted I have done. You asked that the child be taken, I took him. You cowered before me- I was frightening." He began to circle her in his frenzied speech of explanation. "I have re- ordered time. I have turned the world upside down, and I have done it all for you!" Stopping, his face softened as the anger bled from him, unheeded. "I am exhausted from living up to your expectations of me. Isn't that generous?"  
  
Silence dominated the moment as she gazed at him coolly. "Through dangers untold, and hardships unnumbered I have fought my way here to the castle, beyond the Goblin City. For my will is as strong as yours, and my-"  
  
"Stop!" His hand pulled the same gesture, something akin to desperation laced in the steel of his voice. "Wait. Look Sarah. Look what I'm offering you." A crystal appeared at the tips of his fingers, throbbing with a silvered light, in time with the racing of his own heart. "Your dreams."  
  
As if Jareth hadn't even spoken, Sarah continued. "My kingdom is as great..."  
  
"I ask for so little. Just let me rule you, and you can have everything you want." As a King would rule his Queen. Why was it so hard to convince her that he truly did love her?  
  
Becoming flustered, she shook her head. "Damn. I can never remember that line..."  
  
Trying to gain some leeway with her thoughts in hopes to convince her, Jareth spoke again. "Just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave!" His heart ached as the words fell from his lips, baring love for her as best he could, or even knew how. Jareth didn't know what he'd do if she rejected him. He wanted her. Needed her. Why couldn't she see it?  
  
A silence lapsed as Sarah fought to remember the words. An eternity to Jareth until Sarah looked at him, fire of surprise suddenly flaring into her eyes.  
  
"You have no power over me."  
  
Painful, ripping sensations tore throughout Jareth's body as the clock struck thirteen, emotions of defeat and heartbreak shattering over his features as she echoed her words. "You have no power over me!"  
  
Heart sore and ashamed, Jareth threw the crystal into the air as he released his hold on space and time. Sarah caught the crystal in her fingers and held it for a few moments before it became as insubstantial as the air. Folding on himself, Jareth shifted and changed, becoming the owl that darkened so her window so many times. He circled Sarah once before taking to the window, leaving her, his pain, behind for now.  
  
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Opening her eyes, Sarah stared at the canopy that hung above her bed. Over a year had passed since she had taken the confusing turns that had made up the labyrinth, and confronted Jareth the way she had in the dream. Though her memories of the trial was loosing the battle against time and slowly dimming, she knew they were real.  
  
The white owl that sat outside her window every night before and since reminded her of that.  
  
Yes, the wonderful, lovely, -bloody- white owl that sat in the tree every night, keeping her from opening her window. It wasn't forcing her to, but opening the window would be a very literal way of letting him in, metaphorically, too. She wasn't about to admit she had long since forgiven him. Part of her was in awe that he put up with it for over a year.  
  
That trip to the Underground had done more for her than make her realize yes, magic did exist. It also matured her to the point where most people had stopped referring to her as a child. She had forsaken many of her antics, playing dress up and other such things, because who could take fantasy when something made out of such things was real? The tantrums ceased, and she had become more understanding of the world around her. There was only one thing that no one but her could quite understand.  
  
She had an insatiable passion for peaches now.  
  
It annoyed her to no end, but her cravings for the fruit got as bad as chocolate cravings for some people. Sarah couldn't fight it, she could only try not to think about what it implied. But she absolutely refused to eat them in her room at night, regardless. Doing so would be not unlike her lighting up a neon sign that said "I'M THINKING OF YOU ALL THE TIME (BABY)." Granted, he was probably watching her during the day, too, but that was something else she'd rather not think about. She'd rather die from paper cuts.  
  
Her (as far as she was concerned) incurable appetite for a certain fruit was only one of the things that plagued her since. The other was the dreams she would have. It didn't matter whether she was asleep or awake, the dreams (or thoughts) came. Some were thankfully only memories. Some liked to switch her role, which not only threw her, but also make her feel even worse about everything that transpired. And others made her blush fiercely at the thought of even thinking about them.  
  
Because of this, and the notion he was probably watching her brought about a few interesting outbursts from Sarah during daylight hours. She could be talking to someone, or be perfectly quiet, and suddenly she'd start screaming and shake her fists at the sky, yelling something like: "Do you like what you see, you spying letch?! Shouldn't you have something better to do than sit and watch a teenage girl from your throne, oh Mister High- and-Mighty! Do something useful and try playing a box of Milk Duds! You can take your damn crystals and SHOVE THEM!" After this, she'd blow a kiss to further whatever insult, and walk off. Her family decided long ago it was probably due to some religious experience she had. But gradually, they were beginning to worry about the welfare of her sanity. Incidentally, so was Sarah.  
  
It was on one of these nights that Sarah decided she finally had enough.  
  
Oh, it had started out innocently enough, or so any innocent bystander would think. Sarah's stepmother, seeing as how she was almost seventeen now, decided to ask her stepdaughter about her love life, or lack, thereof.  
  
"So, Sarah, has there been any boy that's caught your attentions yet?"  
  
Nearly choking on whatever it was she was eating, Sarah looked at her stepmother. "I guess you could say that." Man's been driving me to insanity...  
  
"Has he asked you out yet? Or are you trying to ask him out?"  
  
Her stepmother could be worse than a roomful of gossip-stricken girls, Sarah mused. "That depends on your point of view." Never mind the fact she couldn't even see herself with another guy, even if the opportunity arose -not like she would have notice if it did. It was all Jareth's fault, too. Did he really have to be all oozing with false (?) charm and incredibly luscious when he was trying to be threatening and wear tight pants and leather? Why couldn't she move on? Why couldn't she just get on with her life (as he, too, obviously was not doing)? WHY did he have to wear the tight pants?!  
  
Without another word, Sarah got up and moved into the kitchen, not quite registering what she was doing, her thoughts a bit too occupied at the moment. When she bit into something, however, reality came crashing down, and she all but killed the peach in her hand.  
  
"DAMN YOU JARETH! WHY CAN'T YOU JUST ROT IN YOUR LABYRINTH AND LEAVE ME ALONE?!" Like a shot, Sarah was up the stairs, scaring her stepmother with the sudden movement.  
  
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Throwing the door to her room open, Sarah spotted the fluffy white owl just past the glass of her window. If it was possible, flames would be shooting out of her eyes and an aura of darkness would be looming behind her. Charging to the window, she threw it open, startling the hapless owl.  
  
"So you want me to talk to you, huh? Well, how's this? It's your fault I can't get on with my life! I can't even dress in my room anymore without thinking- or KNOWING you'll be watching! You're invading my privacy; you're invading my life because you insist on your nightly visits in your innocent little were-owl guise! Get a life! And preferably someone else's because yours sucks!" And with that, she chucked the peach at him.  
  
Jareth, in a state of surprise, barely dodged the flying fruit. When he looked back in the room, Sarah was gone again (but not for long), so he, in his infinite wisdom, thought it better to face her in his true form, which involved him flying into the room and transforming.  
  
When Sarah DID come back, she was carrying a very large crate of peaches, bought graciously by her parents for her odd craving. She didn't seem at all surprised to see him in her room in that form; in fact, it seemed to make her happier.  
  
He was now a larger target, as he soon found out, as Sarah began to pelt his form with the offending peaches.  
  
Turns out, Sarah had a reason for every peach she threw. "This is for Toby! This is for that smelly bog! This is for that creepy hag woman! This is for making me think too much about your pants! This is for making me just say that! This is for peach cravings! This is for all the weird stares I get for yelling about you spontaneously! This is for those hands when you play with the crystals! This is for making me say that too! This is for keeping me from having a boyfriend! This is for watching me from my tree like a pervert! This is for my new fear of birds!" This went on for a while; her family paying no heed, figuring it was just another one of her outbursts. But, amazingly enough, Sarah ran out of reasons to throw anymore peaches and just slumped, exhausted, glaring daggers at Jareth as he wiped peach juice of his clothes.  
  
"Are you finished now, or would you like to play another round? And they're tights, not pants."  
  
Sarah threw another peach at him. "You being here," she gestured wildly towards the window, "is like when someone's humming, and at first it's all right, then it's annoying, then it's 'DO I HAVE TO SHOOT YOU!?'...You're not bullet proof, are you?"  
  
"You could have saved yourself the trouble and opened the window a very long time ago."  
  
"Now why would I want to do that? Anyways, shouldn't you be out kidnapping helpless children, Your Majesty?" She spat, biting out the last two words harshly. "Lord knows that's what you're best at!"  
  
Jareth folded his arms, remaining in a state of calm as opposed to Sarah's rage. "You know, that might almost offend me. But anyone could see what I was trying to do. What I did. Don't even try to say I kidnapped your brother...again. I gave you a sporting chance and you won the game. I could have refused your pleas, you know. How else could I show my feelings when you made that wish?"  
  
Sarah could only raise an eyebrow at him. "Oh really? Maybe you should work on your people skills a little more before you come to that conclusion again. Call me crazy, but I don't think forcing someone to run through a labyrinth is the most apparent profession of love."  
  
"I never forced you."  
  
"Yes you did."  
  
"No I did not."  
  
"Yes you did, and don't try to deny it! You would have had more luck trying to woo me into your clutches if you had left my brother out of it! I don't get where your notions of chivalry come from, but it's one of the most twisted things I've ever come across!"  
  
"Chivalry? Who said anything about chivalry? I simply did what you asked." He could have sworn he'd heard them have this kind of conversation before...  
  
"Don't give me that crap. I asked for him back, did you do that?"  
  
"And wouldn't it have been more chivalrous to give the child back? I think your foot needs to be taken from your mouth before you choke on it."  
  
"You should have just left him alone!"  
  
"The point is, Sarah, I'm not chivalrous or any other label you try to place on me. I took the child like you asked, and I gave you a chance to get him back- and you did. Or is there something 'not fair' about this I should be aware of?"  
  
Sarah saw red. "Why are you here? Did you come, hoping I'd open the window again just so you could mock me for some petty revenge? The great Goblin King having to result to insults and mockery just to get even with a mortal girl?"  
  
"When did I insult you?"  
  
It was just making Sarah angrier for her arguments to fall flat like that.  
  
"Why are we fighting about that night, Sarah? Do you really want to stand there all night, arguing with me about your brother? That's not why you opened the window for me tonight, we both know it."  
  
"Stop acting like you know everything. You don't. You don't know me."  
  
"Oh really?" Jareth's voice was taking on a low, sultry tone. A dangerous tone to Sarah's ears. "You mean to tell me you haven't had a second thought about anything? What it may have been like if you had taken me up on my offer?"  
  
Images flooded Sarah's mind, some making it very hard to control herself. Of course she thought about it, all the time, rather haplessly and against her will, too. But like she'd ever tell him that. It wasn't something he needed to know. As far as Sarah was concerned, that was the LAST thing he needed to know. "I told you, if it wasn't for your stupid game-"  
  
She was startled out of her slight daze and dialogue by the feel of a gloved hand running through her hair. Sarah hadn't noticed him get this close to her at all. "If it had only been you and me, you would have taken me up on my offer?"  
  
Was it getting hot in here, or was it just her? "I never said that, I-"  
  
"Didn't you?"  
  
She focused on his chest, forcing herself not to look at any other part of him. The supple, black leather of his vest clung tightly to him, making his equally black shirt that much more billowy. As was his nature, the shirt was cut low, showing a goodly amount of skin...  
  
Closing her eyes, Sarah tried to ignore the soft leather of his glove as he stroked her cheek. "And so what if I did?" She could have screamed as those words left her throat. Granted, it may have helped if she could think a little straighter. "What does it matter to you?" Oh, but wasn't that a stupid question.  
  
"What does the sky matter to the sun?" Great. Now he was waxing poetic. His breath was warm and unsettlingly close to her face. Sarah knew if she didn't get away from him soon, all of her resolve to resist him would crumble. Opening her eyes, she suddenly realized what a mistake that was. Jareth leaned over her; hand tangled in her tresses, watching her closely, some dark emotion clouding his eyes. Maybe it was his eyes, maybe it was his advances, or it could have been the fact she was mere inches away from that lithe body of his, but something made her snap.  
  
Jareth nearly staggered back in surprise as Sarah practically lunged forward, taking his lips with hers violently. But surprise was immediately devoured by passion, bringing him to pull her body to his so he could feel every inch of her against him. Sarah clung hard to him, almost afraid if she lessened her grip he'd disappear and she'd wake up- again.  
  
Thus, they remained, locked in each other's embrace for a long while. When they finally managed to break their heated kiss, both were breathing heavily. Neither loosened their hold, and Sarah wasn't sure if it was her legs or the floor that had disappeared.  
  
"So, shall I take that as a yes?"  
  
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WOOT! It's done! This was lots of fun to write, and even more fun to read. Yes, I read my own stories...-sighs- I'm just like that. And just as a warning, I have no beta reader. A fact I'm not proud of, but everytime I get one they drop off the face of the earth, so any help in the grammar department would be, well, helpful. But, anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I liked writing it! Rock and kittos! 


	2. Hallucination

Hellos to all again! Originally, I had planned for this to be a one-shot fic, but somehow you all managed to convince me otherwise. Although, somehow I doubt you'll like me much after this, but you know what they say, careful what you wish for ;) Unfortunately, I'm a sucker for happy endings (which is actually a fairly subjective thing where I'm concerned) so don't get your romantic ideals all twisted in a bunch. I may or may not have to up the rating, but we'll see. I was never able to write dark much...Oh, and remember when I said I hated other not-canon-characters in stories? Well, this is just me saying I am the worst hypocrite ever. Fortunately, he doesn't dominate much with his presence. And, as another warning, the joyous little hyphens that appear could mean anything. Thought, song lyric, necessary sentence punctuation, etc. Enjoy the fic! (Chapter edited April, 2005.)

Mother Goose: Grimmy...rise and shine.  
Grimm: Sink and rust.  
-Mother Goose and Grimm

Disclaimer: I own something. Just not Labyrinth.

For those with soundtrack...erm. Just listen to it if you want to.

For Middy, who finally came back. :)

* * *

Upon reading about it, one would discover that a trek through a labyrinth is supposed to bring serenity in modern life. 

Sarah never laughed harder in her life until she read those simple words. Serenity, right. Maybe she forfeited that right when she came in direct contact with Jareth, who knew. That would seem to be the cause, since the only reason she felt anything BUT calm was all, his, fault.

Yes, Sarah liked blaming him for just about everything. He was the reason Toby cried all night, he was the reason she tripped down the stairs, he was the reason the fruit spoiled, he was the reason she felt paranoid all the time, and so forth. It seemed to be easier that way. Why should she be the gracious one and let him off easy, when he really had no intention of leaving her alone?

The peach dream didn't help, either. Granted, it was fairly amusing, and it subdued some (but not all) of her rage at the idea of pelting him with peaches, but it was still a dream. Of course, she mildly suspicious when she woke up that morning to find a crate of peaches in her room but wrote it off. One, there were no peaches anywhere on her floor, and two, the window was closed. This was enough to convince her that it was a dream, since the final thing she could even remember was waking up. Never mind the peaches were flattened and/or bruised in some areas, that still wasn't enough to convince her otherwise.

It was even harder not to think about what else transpired in the dream. Every time she thought about it, her lips would burn and her chest would ache with some unspoken emotion. Whenever she remembered, almost every part of her would wish it had truly happened. Life really could be unfair...

_'You say that so often. I wonder what your basis for comparison is.'_

Slapping the thought away, Sarah bit into a slightly battered peach. 'Damn you, Jareth.'

A twinge of pain drew across her forehead, but she wrote it off as nothing more than the start of a headache.

* * *

Jareth sat back in his throne, his demeanor, expression and posture conveying the state of weariness. It wasn't tiredness from ruling, oh no. If only it were that, maybe he'd at least look like he was halfway among the living. Ruling over a large hoard of drooling, idiotic goblins didn't leave much for many duties, as the title of king would imply. About all he could do was watch them mill, party, and loiter around his throne room -sometimes in the Goblin City, if he was feeling really adventurous and decided to look out a window- generally doing nothing. And that's what Jareth's days consisted of. Nothing. Except living, if you considered sitting somewhere watching a goblin drool on itself living. That is, if you could stand to watch it. The occasional kicking, or perhaps spontaneous song out of the unruly blue brought him out of his depression, but only just so. It was a curse, one would guess, with one such as him, seemingly obsessed with finer things that a life could offer be forced (forced?) to live among creatures so crude. 

So Jareth sat, brooding, with nothing better to do, ignoring the goblins of the "court." Maybe a trip somewhere else -as long as it was away from here- would be good for his state of mind (and body), but he simply lacked the motivation to do so. Growing tired of his rooting on the throne, he stood and moved to the window, kicking the stray goblin on his way if it was in kicking distance and hadn't the discretion to move for him as he stalked. Seating himself, he stared out at the brown and golden landscape his kingdom, his labyrinth, gave. Not ugly by any means, but not beautiful in the same instant. It gleamed with some twisted, underlying thought, reminiscing of a child shouting, "Nyah nyah, you can't catch me!" But all of it was old and worn in Jareth's eyes. He longed for something new for his gaze to lie on, just...something new. Or perhaps, something old, but just as welcome.

Whimsical and wistful, a crystal orb was conjured on his fingertips. Looking into it, Jareth willed anything to appear in its smooth surface from the Aboveground. It wasn't unlike flipping channels on a television, seeing if anything interesting is on. But his mind is much like the involved television viewer. Once you find something you like, you can never really flip through the channels, for fear you'll miss something important.

He may lack all motivation, vitality and appearance of the living during the day, but night was a completely different story. His nights consisted of visits to her window, watching over her, protecting her, if need be.

Protecting her from what?

Anything, everything...he stared silently into the smooth surface of the crystal, eyes never leaving her image. He guessed the amusing part was she knew he was watching, and Sarah would occasionally acknowledge this fact.

A cold wind blew in from the window, causing Jareth to look up. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he watched lightning off in the distance, striking from the ground up. There was some definite activity within the Unseelie Court. Shaking his head, Jareth returned his attention back to the crystal globe spinning atop his gloved fingers. It didn't matter to him what they were up to, anyways.

* * *

Huddled under her blankets, Sarah tried not to toss again. Her cold came without almost any warning, and she felt miserable. Despite her fever, she was chilled to the bone, a pound of lead filled her head, her throat ached, nausea swept her every few minutes and anytime she tried to stand dizziness overwhelmed her. So, she stayed, curled in her bed, hoping for sleep that refused to come. 

Midnight struck, and the grandfather clock below faithfully chimed the hour. Looking deftly at the window, she spied the white owl fluttering onto one of the branches. Jareth.

Suddenly aching for the company he might provide, Sarah forced herself up. The floor swam, the walls danced and the ceiling wriggled invitingly at her. A wave of nausea crashed into her, but she steeled herself against it and pushed herself out of bed and onto the seesawing floor. Gripping any surface she could, she made her way unsteadily to the window. Finally, she gripped the cool metal and glass and threw the window open. Sagging with relief, Sarah didn't move as the owl fluttered into the room. She knew he wouldn't refuse an invitation, and she was glad. However, she had lost all will to move back to her bed. It just didn't feel worth it.

Gentle hands pulled her from her resting spot and lifted her. Cuddled in his arms, Jareth made his way back to her bed. "For one as sick as you, you sure enjoy moving around."

Annoyance edged Sarah's voice. "Don't even try that. I was lying in that spot for nearly four hours, and I regret even trying to move from it."

"Really."

"Yes, really." The mattress steadied Sarah as Jareth set her down, pulling the covers back over her. "I thought you'd like the idea of my wanting your company. But I guess we can't be right all the time."

"It's not often you want my company. Just assume I do not know how to act about it."

"Whatever."

"Funny, you don't seem to have the same edge you did the other night when you decided to throw those peaches at me. I hope you know, you nearly ruined my clothing."

"Well, gee, ever think it could be because I'm sick and not into that kind of thing right now?" What he said suddenly settled in, and she looked at him strangely. "The peach thing?" Sarah thought hard. "But that was just a dream."

"Oh, was it now?"

"Are you trying to tell me it wasn't?"

"That would be the obvious guess, now wouldn't it? I think I'd remember very well if someone started flinging fruit at me."

Sarah became flustered. "But I woke up and-"

"…You passed out right after we-"

"Passed out! Why!" Sarah attempted to screech as she sat up. Stars swirled and the room spun accordingly. Groaning, she fell back into the pillows.

"Don't ask me, I wasn't the one who lolled into a state of unconscious after initiating a (rather earth shattering) kiss. It was a few moments after I asked if that wonderful bit of physical contact meant yes that your eyes so elegantly rolled into the back of your head."

"…The whole thing was real? Even the…oh God…" Now Sarah really did feel sick. Sicker than before. Her headache soared to new heights, nausea took on a whole new meaning, and her chills deepened. Somehow, she didn't think the knowledge would have this effect. Burrowing further under the covers and assuming a fetal position to hopefully ward off further attacks, Sarah groaned again.

"I wouldn't worry so much about it, Sarah. Any confrontation of that sort is well welcome." Jareth's voice was low and almost seductive, making Sarah shudder slightly.

Normally, she would have said something about that. Yelled or screamed, but her energy to do so was nowhere to be found. Instead, she sought his hand, clutching his soft-gloved one in her shaking hands. "Stay."

Looking down on her, Jareth let his surprise show freely. Her eyes were closed and her hands clasped his. Even with his gloves, he could feel the fever that raged within her. But that one worded request -demand, really- could have stilled the wind.

"As you wish."

* * *

Out in the cool wilderness, a large flame boiled, burning brightly within the confines of the cauldron. Near it, looking deep within the fire stood a man. His bearing was regal, and his clothing black as midnight. Billowing out behind him as the wind blew, his cloak showed the only piece of color on its underside, a bloody scarlet, as his pitchy hair joined its flight. Arms folded, he watched as images bubbled within the flame, his gray eyes chilling. 

"Well, well, well…" A smile folded over his lips. "Interesting. Could she be the same chit that bested that trifling maze?" Sadistic delight grew in his eyes as he watched, finally breaking the silence with maniacal laughter.

* * *

Morning light tore at Sarah's eyes, making her head rebel. Turning herself over, she buried her head under the pillows. 

"Rise and shine!"

The cheery voice of her stepmother didn't help much. "Sink and rust."

"Not feeling any better?"

"Well, if feeling like you're falling off a cliff and hitting ground every few seconds is any better, then yes, I'm feeling loads better."

"Hmmm…" Silence followed her footsteps, but the silence was just as crushing. A stab of pain spiraled up Sarah's back, making her gasp in pain. Soon, it diminished, but didn't leave entirely.

"Here Sarah. Get up so I can check your temperature." Obeying, Sarah grudgingly took the thing glass into her mouth, closing her eyes to guard against the dizziness that came anyways. Minutes trudged past, mocking her.

Slumping back when the thermometer was taken, she barely registered her stepmother's voice. "…You still have a high fever. Looks like you get out of school today. Try to rest some more, I'll bring you something to drink later."

Hearing the door close, Sarah shook her head. Rest, that's all she was doing. Opening her eyes again, she sat up, somehow ignoring the vertigo that swept every part of her. He was there, broad daylight, looking as awesome as ever. Regarding her with some strange emotion in his eyes, he crept forward, much like an exotic dancer would. Eyes widening, she sat up further, watching him, and just as he reached her, she closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, he was gone, and the room once again reeled.

* * *

"Finally feeling better, huh? Everyone thought you had died. We were about to auction off your locker." 

Sarah shook her head and turned on the faucet that adorned the top of the sink in the girls' bathroom and began to wash her hands. "I was only gone for three days." Shifting slightly, she tried to remove whatever uncomforting pressure that was growing gradually in her abdomen and snaking it's way into her chest. She had felt completely fine this morning… "Anyways, if I had stayed any longer I would have fallen really behind on my schoolwork."

"And how would that change things?"

Glaring at her friend's grinning face, Sarah turned the water off. "Could you not comment on that, please?" Reaching for the paper towels, an unexpected flash of pain coursed through her, causing her to crumple. Twisting her arms about herself, Sarah bit back to keep from screaming.

"Sarah! What's wrong? What's happening!"

Wanting to answer her friend, anguish gripped her face when a choking cough welled up and spilled out from her throat. Hacking gasps filled the deadness of the restroom as Sarah wheezed, vile liquid bubbling into her mouth, making her nauseous once again.

"Oh my God! Sarah!" Her friend's cries were dim on her ears as the cough subsided. Looking at her hand, which was sticky with the fluid, Sarah fought down the rolling nausea that hit her tenfold.

Blood trickled down her wrist and chin, dripping to the floor. As her friend said something about getting the nurse, Sarah was again wracked with pain, tears flooding her eyes from the sheer intensity as the coughs filled her throat once again. Crawling to the wall, Sarah slumped against it for support, the chilling tile giving her a small grip on reality. Pressing her arms to herself as if to guard from the sting of whatever illness she had, words slipped unheeded from her lips.

"Jareth, I need you…"

* * *

The result was almost instantaneous. "The one time you're not watching her…" Jareth chided himself, as entered Sarah's presence. Her conditioned made him nearly stagger; the sight of her blood slowly starting to pool was stomach churning. Kneeling next to her, he lightly brushed her hair away from her paling face. "Sarah?" 

As if woken from sleep, Sarah's eyes flickered open. "Jar…" Shuddering, she shook her head. "What's happening to me?"

"I-" Stopping suddenly, Jareth, froze. A sickly sweet smell wafted through the air, practically screaming danger, much like the vibrant color of holly berries does. But this scent was a little too familiar, a little too green. "Elf-shot."

Sarah could only glance at him quizzically before the coughing fits and pain returned, spilling even more blood from her already reddened lips. Taking her in his arms, Jareth pulled himself and her back to his castle.

* * *

Looking at the girl in his arms, now within his castle, the fires of anger started to grow. Who had done this to her? And why hadn't he noticed? Maybe it was because elf-shot affect each mortal differently? But he wasn't about to let himself -or the person who did this to her, especially- off the hook that easily. Gently, he eased Sarah to her feet, only to have her cling to him. 

"Oh God…it hurts so much…why can't they just kill me and get it over with?" Sarah practically sobbed, half leaning, half holding him. Blood leaked from her lips as she spoke, sinking into the immaculate white of his shirt, destroying it with a horrid red stain. Finally unable to stand the assault any long, Sarah's legs buckled beneath her and she slumped, no long conscious. Jareth simply laid her down, trying not to wince at the blood that began to stain the floor as it continued to flow.

Rancorous laughter filled the room, resonating against the walls. Standing and backing a few steps away from the fallen girl, Jareth looked to the ceiling, where the laughter seemed to be coming from. "Whoever's there, show yourself."

There was a slight fizzling sound before another man appeared, standing over Sarah. His clothes ebbed with darkness, cut with the crude harshness of scarlet that lined his billowy shirt. Darkened hair swung over his shoulder hiding his elfin ears and his gray eyes shone eerily, sparkling with some sick mirth. "I'm honored you would call on me, King of Goblins. As you may well know, I am of the Unseelie. Aian, at your service." He swept a bow, only serving to make Jareth angrier. Straightening, he grinned.

"How interesting our paths should cross, Goblin King." Aian relaxed into a smile. "And to think, I thought you were just puttering around with your brownie rejects. Who knew the girl I hit with my elf-shot would be the self-same girl who beat your labyrinth, ey? Small world."

Jareth watched him coldly as he shifted to sit on his haunches beside Sarah, smoothing her blood-matted hair from her face. "She certainly did take well to the shot. I find blood and tears so becoming on a human, don't you?" Laughing, Aian waved his hand and shook his head. "Oh, that's right, I forgot."

"I have no reason to bother with anyone in the Unseelie Court. You have, however, caught my attention. Attention that I don't think you'll like too much. Not only have you compromised your safety by entering my castle and labyrinth, but you have harmed one under my care greatly."

"Ah, now why so upset King Jareth?" Looking back at the girl, Aian smiled. "Could this wee mortal mean that much to you?" Standing, the smile drifted off his face. "How utterly tragic, had I known…" A mock sigh escaped his lips. "But how was I to know? She doesn't have your scent, nor have you ever truly staked your claim on her. Rather sloppy of you." Smirking, Aian finished, "It's your own fault, you know. She was, as it is said, fair game."

Pure rage shone in Jareth's eyes. "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into."

"Don't I? What are you going to do, conjure a crystal at me?" Laughing again, Aian sneered. "You're pathetic, -KING- Jareth. All you can do is summon crystals and fall for human mortals. Maybe if you had some real power, you wouldn't be such a disgrace to the Sidhe!"

Lightning flashed and filled the room. Thunder screamed and rattled, shaking the very earth that held the castle. Glass broke, stone crumbled and the heavens trembled. When it finally died, only Aian's laugh could be heard.

"Was that all?"

Laughter caught in his throat as he suddenly realized that the Goblin King still stood before him. Even the girl, who should have been nothing more than charred flesh still lay, bloodied and broken but untouched, on the floor. A single crystal hovered, crackling with the absorbed energy, and floated gently into Jareth's gloved hand.

"So, you think my crystal's are nothing more than a cheap trick? Perhaps you should taste some of your own medicine from my 'trick' crystals." A single bolt of light shot from the orb, crashing into Aian and sending him flying, causing him to hit the ground with a horrible crack.

Struggling to right himself, the hollow sound of Jareth's boots echoed in the room coupling with the sound of his clothes sizzling. Gasping for breath, Aian wasn't prepared for the hand that grabbed him by the throat, picking him up and shoving him into the wall.

"Beg," Jareth's breath was hot on Aian's face, shaking with concealed anger. "Beg for mercy. Show you have some regret for your actions, you miserable excuse for a Sluagh."

Steeling himself, Aian scoffed. "Oh, yes. Show me mercy, Great King." With that, he spit in Jareth's face.

Eyes narrowing to deadly slits, Jareth smirked slightly. "What a pity."

* * *

Dull, overused references from The Princess Bride need not apply. And what was Aian doing with the fire? He was fire scrying, which isn't too unlike Jareth and his crystal scrying. Now, after you lynch me, here are a few fun terms of use:

Fae- Or rather, the Fays. Faeries. Can also include elves, pixies, goblins, brownies, etc.

Sidhe- A name for the Fae and their subterranean dwellings.

Seelie Court- Blessed court. These trooping Fae are benevolent towards humans, but will readily avenge any insult or injury.

Unseelie Court- Fae who are never, never nice to humans. They like to cause illness to humans and cattle via elf-shot. Bands of these Fae are called the Sluagh.

Sluagh- The Host of the Unforgiven Dead. The most formidable of Highland Fae.

Elf-shot- describes an illness or disability usually caused by their arrows.

Technically, when Jareth called Aian a "miserable excuse for a Sluagh", he was being inaccurate, because the Sluagh refers more to a group than a solitary. Say, can anyone tell me what happened to Sarah while she was sick and Jareth got even more playboy than usual? Stay tuned for the final chapter in this exciting trilogy…


	3. As the World Falls Down

Did I say this was going to be the final chapter? Hmm. I really need to stop doing that. I honestly didn't expect to have chapter two done so fast, but I kept forcing myself to write. To be perfectly honest, I don't really like how this chapter turned out. I must warn you, more blood is possible in some form. As for my reviewers, thank you so much! I've never had such awesome things said about my writing (by complete strangers, no less), but some of you (heh) have helped by not letting it go to my head. I love reviews, so don't hesitate to pop in whenever. HUGE thanks to Kani-chan, who did an awesome beta-job. Remember, in the words of Rain-chan, it's your decision, you could meet anyone, and you could be mauled by a rabid giraffe. Enjoy the fic!  
  
"Listen to me (don't listen to me)-Talk to me (don't talk to me)-Dance with me (don't dance with me)" -Fashion (David Bowie)  
  
Disclaimer: I do own the movie in VHS form. I did own a muffin. But I will never own the characters or concept behind Labyrinth. Aian and the strange wind voice-thinking...thing are mine, however.  
  
For Bryn, my favorite Valkyrie ;)  
  
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Jareth peeled his blood-soaked gloves off and tossed them onto the floor.  
  
Calling forth a few goblins, he gave some instructions and then turned his attention to Sarah. The bleeding had finally stopped, but a staggering amount of blood pooled around her, giving the impression of a fallen angel. Drawing her into his arms, Jareth left the room without a second glance.  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Consciousness came brutally for Sarah. The pain, although ebbing some, was still nearly crippling. Her nerves felt like they were melting, her innards twisted and contorted to the point she could barely breath. Each limb threatened to separate from her body violently and her head was crumbling under leaden weight, blurring her vision. Moaning, Sarah could only shake as her body refused to pull into the fetal position she so desperately wanted to curl into - but couldn't because her motor skills abandoned her.  
  
A velvety touch caressed her temple, brushing the hair away from her face. A silk-smooth voice washed over her, causing her to momentarily forget her pain and savor the feeling of the tones. The decidedly male voice was asking her something, but the words didn't quite register, only that voice, honeyed and alluring all at the same time.  
  
Pain exploded throughout Sarah again, raw and definitely unwanted. Sucking in a breath, Sarah didn't even try to not scream. She couldn't have, even if she wanted to -which she did. Feeling the pressure at her temple shift, hands covered her eyes gently, and she could hear the voice lilting, as if singing. Slowly, her vision cleared as if she was waking from a deep sleep, and the pain behind her eyes receded. As she sighed with even that minimal relief, the hands moved back to her temples, and soon the hammering there ceased, giving way to delicious light-headedness as opposed to the throbbing sting. Moving again, the hands cupped the back of her head, fingers tangling slightly in her russet locks and finally, all pain and fog ebbed from her head. Thoughts resurfacing, she registered the voice fully as it continued its breathless, ethereal song.  
  
'Jareth.'  
  
As he continued, Sarah found herself floating. The ache that dominated her person was lifted from her like heat after stepping into cool water. Each place he touched her worked its own magic, some places a little too intimate, but never close enough to merit any real concern. Sarah couldn't have cared less. Her body, once rigid with unbearable pain was so relaxed, Sarah thought she was floating on a cloud - forget on the cloud, she WAS the cloud. She felt far too light to be made of flesh. Now only if Tylenol could harness this kind of power...  
  
Opening her eyes, Sarah dragged her gaze down to the blonde-haired splendor resting next to her, studying her with some odd emotion.  
  
"Sarah?" Jareth rolled the name on his tongue much like a wine taster would, and still managed to thread what almost sounded like concern into his voice.  
  
Not that he was paying much attention -unlike Sarah.  
  
"Mmmm..." Sarah thought for a moment, appeared to drift off, then her eyes snapped back to Jareth's form. "...Hmmm?"  
  
"I take it you're feeling better?"  
  
Feeling better? Words couldn't describe how much of an understatement feeling better was. Lolling in a state of ecstasy that ONLY being liberated from pain could provide, Sarah just grinned. "Heh."  
  
Standing, Jareth spoke again. "Try to rest some more. I will be back soon."  
  
Listening to him leave, Sarah flexed her arms. Another thought seeped its way in as she felt her face. No blood, not even a trace of the vile liquid remained, even her mouth. Did that also happen when Jareth healed her, or did he actually clean it from her when she was unconscious?  
  
Sitting up suddenly, Sarah looked down at herself. Her clothes had been traded for what she guessed was one of his (rather nice) poet shirts. She was even more surprised to realize it actually had buttons, which had actually been employed.  
  
Lying back down, Sarah sighed. She knew she should thank him, but part of her now wanted to rip him apart. Oddly enough, it wasn't because he may have seen her nude.  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Clothed in black, Jareth stepped out of the shadows with the beginnings of a Cheshire smile on his lips. The two regarded each other in silence for a few moments before Sarah broke the stillness.  
  
"Give me the child."  
  
"Sarah, beware." He walked towards and around her, much like a hawk would prey, but with something hauntingly different in mind. "I have been generous up until now. I can be cruel."  
  
Annoyance clouded Sarah's eyes. "Generous?" She tilted her head, almost mockingly. "What have you done that's generous?"  
  
"Everything! Everything you wanted I have done. You asked that the child be taken, I took him. You cowered before me- I was frightening." He began to circle her in his frenzied speech of explanation. "I have re-ordered time. I have turned the world upside down, and I have done it all for you!" Stopping, his face still holding annoyance. "I am exhausted from living up to your expectations of me. Isn't that generous?"  
  
Silence dominated the moment as she gazed at him coolly. "Through dangers untold, and hardships unnumbered I have fought my way here to the castle, beyond the Goblin City. For my will is as strong as yours, and my-"  
  
"Stop!" His hand pulled the same gesture, something akin to desperation laced in the steel of his voice. "Wait. Look Sarah. Look what I'm offering you." Making the motions to create a crystal, Jareth suddenly leapt forward, seizing Sarah, taking her completely by surprise. Crushing her to him, Jareth covered her lips with a bruising kiss, tangling one hand in her hair and wrapping the other arm around her so she couldn't break free.  
  
Terrified, Sarah struggled, refusing to respond to imposed kiss. When she was released, Sarah staggered back, tasting blood where he had bit. Licking his lips, the smile grew; giving Sarah the feeling he was about to go for her neck next.  
  
"Your dreams."  
  
Anger growing in her eyes, Sarah spat, ridding herself of the reddened fluid, the words then flying from her, fierce and icy. "You have no power over me."  
  
Gray eyes growing cold, Jareth summoned a crystal. "Then you shall die."  
  
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Waking with a start, Sarah jerked upright, biting back the scream that rose in her throat. The last thing she had seen in the dream was Jareth hurling a blackened crystal towards her...  
  
Breathing hard, she pushed back strands of hair that stuck to her sweaty face. Something about that dream seemed horribly wrong, but she couldn't think why. Maybe it was his eyes?  
  
Pulling the covers from her sweaty legs, Sarah walked to the window, looking up at the waning moon. He had left not too long ago, leaving her again to the devices of her realm. He didn't fail to explain all that had happened, the elf-shot, the man behind it, and although he didn't voice it, somehow she knew what had transpired between Jareth and Aian, and what exactly happened to the latter.  
  
'Aian...why did he bother naming you?" Some emotion twisted in her gut, making her shiver. Glancing at her vanity, she took in the crystal sitting there, innocent in its own right.  
  
--It's a crystal, nothing more. But if you turn it this way...--  
  
No, that was what he said the first time they met. What had he said to her this time when he offered the crystal?  
  
--...and look into it, it'll show you your dreams. Do you want it? --  
  
Sarah was bothered that she couldn't remember what he had told her when she had accepted this crystal, and that was only a few hours ago. And she was pretty sure Jareth's eyes weren't gray. Uneasiness settled over her like a thick blanket. Something was wrong, but she just couldn't think -what- exactly.  
  
Concentrating, Sarah did her best to recall what had transpired. Jareth had said something about...marking her, was it? Yeah...and left her with the crystal.  
  
-- 'I must leave now, but I will come back for you one day. I promise you that.'--  
  
Unconsciously rubbing her neck, Sarah continued to watch the moon as it rose.  
  
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'Have you a reason?'  
  
It wasn't so much a voice as an unheeded thought. Jareth started and scanned the throne room, searching for the source of the voice. The wind picked up a bit and shuddered, drawing his attention. Whatever it was hailed from afar.  
  
"Have I a reason for what?"  
  
'Death. His. The other.'  
  
"If you speak of the idiot that came into my castle unbidden and unwelcome who attempted to strike me down with what he called power, then yes."  
  
The wind shifted, as if it was thinking. 'Defense? Of whom. My son was a fool, but harming you was futile. Why?'  
  
"Who are you? I'm not telling you more until I know."  
  
'A grieved mother. Need you know more?' Shaking, the wind twisted, pulling across the window in such a way that it sounded like a forlorn woman weeping piteously. Jareth narrowed his eyes.  
  
"He attacked one under my protection."  
  
Humming, the wind spiraled, thinking again. 'One under your protection?'  
  
"The girl who traversed the labyrinth." Jareth's voice was icy, not too appreciative of this line of questioning. Suddenly the wind stilled, almost making Jareth believe the woman had cut contact. But soon, the wind picked up again, no more than a breeze.  
  
'This does not bode well. My son...had a twisted way about his elf-shot dealing with womenfolk...'  
  
That caught Jareth's full attention. "Explain."  
  
Stilling for a moment, as if in hesitation, the wind continued. 'As most elf-shot just causes illness, my son decided it would be more amusing to add a twisted version of love shot to his own. Those that are poisoned usually die horribly, but those that live suffer what could be considered a worse fate. The memories of the afflicted, specifically, memories of those they truly care for are warped and changed so all pleasant and good memories gain his face and actions. It contorts their perceptions, and eventually they die, torn with hatred for those they were meant to love, and heartbroken, longing for him. Eventually, the result is the same, even with healing.'  
  
Livid was the best word to describe Jareth at this moment. "And you allowed him to -continue- this practice?!"  
  
Silence dominated for a moment. 'We are of the Unseelie Court. Compassion towards humans is strange to us. And you must forgive me for saying, most of the Seelie Court involved with humans mark what they claim is theirs.'  
  
Sitting back, Jareth's face took on a tired, sallow look, suddenly seeming to gain many years on his shoulders. "Can anything be done?"  
  
'...I only do this as apology for my son entering your domain.'  
  
"Of course."  
  
'There are three options. You can let her die hating you, heartbroken and torn. If luck is with you, you could try and awaken her AS Siegfried awoke Brunhilde in the stories of old, or -'  
  
Slowly, a form took shape in a cyclone of wind before Jareth. A handle appeared towards him, gold encrusted with bloodstones and onyx, and a curved, diamond hard blade emerged as if being pulled from a sheath, glittering in the dimness of twilight.  
  
Staring in horror at the dagger, Jareth made no move towards it. When sufficient time had past, the feathery voice spoke again, a strange emotion lacing the voice. 'Do not be cruel. Do not let her suffer as my son would.'  
  
Then the voice and wind dissipated. The dagger glinted for a moment then fell to the cold stone floor with a bitter clang.  
  
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Oh, and for you curious folk out there, the place where I got most of my information from last chapter (all those terms...) is from a book called Celtic Magic by D.J. Conway.  
  
Another chapter should be coming up. Although, I could be heartless and leave it there. X-) Ohhh, wouldn't that be fun? But unfortunately, I already HAVE the last chapter written. Pooh. 


	4. Within You

Forgive me! I would have had this out sooner, but my computer died a horrible, painful, noisy almost death and my keyboard went with it. But, ever mindful of my readers, I've tried my best to continue writing with my handy-dandy...notebook! Paper, that is. You'll have to excuse the blatant Ayashi no Ceres reference in here; I'm doing all in my power to keep this at its present rating. Never mind I'm also suffering from writer's block- again. Second to last chapter here, and I've done ALL I can to make this chapter LONG, as you all deserve. Whether I succeeded is something else entirely. You can't lynch me until I finished the fic. Erm...prepare for some inane conversation and fairly dark stuff, too. I'll be telling what happened the night Jareth brought Sarah back after his killing Aian. And remember, nothing is ever QUITE what it seems ;)

"Let me dance in your love cups and serve you tea." -Rocko's Modern Life

Disclaimer: Hey, neat! I was born the same year Labyrinth AND Highlander were out in theater! I don't own The Lion King or Leonard Cohen's song "Everybody Knows" either.

For my patient reviewers, lurkers and vampire obsessed friends.

* * *

"Jareth, can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

Ignoring him, Sarah continued. "Do all of your shirts have buttons that you refuse to use?"

"That's a rather odd question, don't you think? Why do you ask?"

"Uhhh..." Flushing a bit, she shook her head. "Curiosity gets the best of us at times..."

"Indeed. But if you remember..." Jareth picked up her music box and began to wind it slowly "...the formal attire I wore at your Masque." Setting the music box down, it began to play a bittersweet melody. Drawing Sarah into his arms, Jareth began their dance, swinging her small, sweeping motions to accommodate the space the floor gave them. "That was quite well buttoned, wouldn't you agree? Come to think of it, we seemed to switch roles then, because you were showing quite a bit of skin..." Pulling her closer, his warm breath tickled her ear. "Set of your shoulders just so, a tug in some strategic place, and-"

"Jareth-oh!" Sarah began to warn, only to gasp as his mouth descended upon her neck, suckling and gently biting the area just below her ear. "What are you..." Unable to finish the sentence, Sarah's eyes fluttered closed as he reached up to cup the opposite cheek, steadying her face, as his other hand still gripped her hand from their dance.

After a few moments of this, Sarah opened her eyes to gaze at him. "What are you, part vampire?"

Pulling himself away slightly, Jareth stroked her cheek. "Not quite, love."

* * *

The morning dawned gray and dreary, air smelling of coming rain. Trees that surrounded the area seemed greener against the overcast sky, trembling in anticipation of the cooling torrents the sky promised.

'It's just like that day...' Sarah thought, poking her nose out the door. "All that's missing is the owl, the park, me in that get-up, and Merlin..." Glancing up, Sarah's face darkened. Well, maybe the owl WASN'T missing. Shutting the door, Sarah walked to the kitchen and proceeded to consume her normal daily allowance of peaches. Even so, for the past week the peaches seemed to sour. She still ate them with her usual fervor, but the normal sweetness that the fruit normally contained fell away and turned to ash in her mouth. True, the taste wanted to make her retch, but she couldn't stop eating them.

Suddenly, Toby's wailing drifted from the living room, causing Sarah to jump. Setting her peach down, she jaunted slightly to the neighboring room.

* * *

"What did you just do?" 

Jareth let his fingers brush over Sarah's neck, smiling slightly. "Marking you, of course. Otherwise, that whole ordeal you suffered through might happen again."

"So I'm now your property?" It was really hard for Sarah to be mad, because she'd do almost anything to never be in that kind of pain ever again. "What am I, your pet?"

Grinning, Jareth responded. "If you'd like to see it that way, then perhaps."

"Like a loyal, drooling dog following you everywhere like a lost puppy?" Okay, so she was getting a little angry...

"Now now, let's not insult your friends. Not at all what I had in mind." Jareth suddenly gave her a spin and pulled her into his arms from behind. "If I were to parallel you with anything, it would be the noble and aloof feline that gained so much attention from the ancient Egyptians and Norsemen. Dog, remember, is man's best friend. And I," Jareth let his lips brush Sarah's ear, making her shiver ", am not man."

* * *

Sarah stooped slightly and pulled Toby from the playpen. Picking Lancelot up off the floor, she handed the bear to her brother, who gripped it tightly.

"Feeling lonely?" Toby buried his face into his sister's neck, only hiccupping now. Sarah wrapped her other arm around him. "So was I."

Sitting on the couch, Sarah sighed. "Something's wrong, Toby, I can feel it. My dreams are changing, like someone's twisting them, and sucking the color from them." Holding Toby closer to her, Sarah allowed a few tears to fall. "After all this, after everything he did, good or bad...I'm starting to forget. Why? Why can't I remember..." Though she tried to stop them, choked sobs broke free from her throat, painful and slow. Toby, sensing his sister's distress held Lancelot out in a motion of comfort. Sarah couldn't help but smile at her brother as a thought hit her. Gazing at her brother, she sucked in a breath and managed to swallow the lump in her throat.

"His eyes are blue." Wiping a few tears from her face, Sarah gave both Toby and Lancelot a squeeze. "Thank you."

* * *

--Life's not fair, is it? You see I...well I, shall never be king. And you...shall never see the light of another day.--

* * *

"What? Well, if you're not a man..." Sarah had to pause here, since her confusion overloaded almost everything and made her head throb. "...What are you?"

Due to the close proximity Sarah had to the Goblin King, she could feel his suppressed laughter. "What? What's so funny?"

"Sarah, maybe it has eluded you, but I'm of the Fae. Little People or Gentry. Even though we're not quite little." Sarah couldn't help but turn slightly red at this comment. Where was her mind, anyways? "You don't go around calling a unicorn a horse, do you? They're not quite the same."

"Okay, I get it. I feel idiotic enough as is."

"Truly not my intention to make you feel that way." Jareth let his fingers trace some abstract designs on her shoulders, teasing her slightly through the fabric of her shirt. "Out of curiosity, why were you blushing? It was an innocent subject, but I hardly think you were blushing out of embarrassment."

"...Well..."

* * *

It was the mailman's fault, she was sure of it. He jinxed her, so her Rice Krispies wouldn't snap, crackle, OR pop. Always sounding so cheery, handing you the mail...cheery? Blast! Were they really?

Sarah paced back and fourth in her room, mind whirling. She was sure, without a doubt, that the mailman had cursed her breakfast cereal. Not only that, but she was sure everyone she met, as soon as they smiled or...did something...yes, something! They were out to get her. When she wasn't around, she was sure they changed to their true, alien forms, plotting her eventual demise. The owls, especially. Everywhere she looked, there were owls. Owls, owls everywhere, and not a drop to drink!

Pausing suddenly, Sarah listened a moment, then bolted down the stairs. Opening the door, she glared warily at the startled mailman, before he smiled at her.

Sarah's eyes narrowed further. The mailman's disposition became one of nervousness.

"I, uh...here." The mailman thrust the letters and bills into Sarah's hands and began backing away. "If there was something I did wrong that I didn't know about, I'm sorry!"

Growling, Sarah smiled maliciously. "You planned with him. I know you did, you plotted to have him killed. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but I will have my revenge!"

Paling, the man waved his hands in front of him. "Revenge? KILLED? Lady, I don't know what you're talking about, but whatever happened to you, I had no-"

Turning, Sarah called out. "Merlin?! SIC!"

A horrible growling and snarling erupted from the open garage, and the sheepdog barreled out, straight for the mailman. Screaming, the mailman turned tail and ran.

Looking up, Sarah noticed the white owl perched on a tree. It wasn't looking at her, just sitting, preening. Face growing red with anger, she bolted back into the house, returning with a load of peaches. Without a second thought, she began chucking them, scaring the white barn owl.

"Thought you could spy on me again?! Hah! Try and turn everyone against me! Stupid OWL!"

And the poor, innocent, normal owl flew off, far, far away from the crazy girl with the peaches.

* * *

"You never told me what he did to me. I don't even know who 'he' is! You said what happened to me could happen to me again if you didn't...well, whatever. What happened?"

Sighing heavily, Jareth wrapped his arms around her and pulled Sarah closer to him. "Elf shot. It's used by the Unseelie Court on humans and cattle and causes sickness or paralysis without warning."

"Great to know I'm lumped together with cattle." Sarah paused. "So...how was I-"

"I healed you."

"Why didn't you just do that beforehand?"

Silence dominated for a moment before Jareth replied. "Healing only works if the source of the shot is removed."

"So what, like the poison?"

"Not exactly...I was referring to the one who used the shot, in this case."

"Removed?" Sarah's voice was silent. "Jareth...did you...kill him?"

* * *

--But love is blind, and lovers cannot see, the pretty follies that themselves commit.-- Shakespeare (Merchant of Venice)

* * *

"Are you still hoping you can save her?"

The wind caressed Jareth's form, as if to comfort him from some unseen sadness.

"I thought you already did your part."

"You do think you can save her. How? By awakening her?" A girlish giggle filled the room. "Although, it is a way to cure her, do you honestly believe all will be well? When Siegfried awoke Brunhilde, he was unfaithful, and she slew him. Now," the wind seemed to sit on the back of his throne, "do you really want that to be your future?"

Glancing up at the woman sitting on the back of his throne, Jareth narrowed his eyes, but didn't move. "Did I allow you in here?"

"Trying to change the subject?" Sliding off the throne, she snaked around Jareth, laying her head on his shoulder so her cauldron black hair cascaded around his neck and down his chest. Her pale arms stroked his, almost as if she was attempting to seduce him. "Is it because you know I speak truth? Would you truly let her suffer as my son would? Are you that cruel?" An equally cruel smile curled on her lips. "Or just selfish?"

When Jareth didn't answer, she allowed herself another giggle. "Ah, so you love her, do you not? Love," she sneered, "is the purest form of a selfish heart. It makes the strong weak and the wise simpering idiots. More suffering has been done in the name of love than anything else. Love of hate, you could call it. Love of religion, love of self, love of another, even. Love is blind, and those in love commit the stupidest of acts. It's nothing more than a crutch, an excuse. 'I did it for love', some say. Isn't that why you killed my son?"

Jareth became rigid as her words worked their way into his mind.

"Kill the human girl. Someone who has to guard himself from both the Unseelie and Seelie Courts can't have his judgment dampened by a young, idiot girl who can no longer tell reality from fantasy. She never could."

"You may stop this now," Jareth growled. "Nothing you can say will change my mind or prove otherwise."

"Oh? Than what if I tell you that you are nothing more than just a fantasy come to life for her? And what a fantasy it is." The woman curled around Jareth, whispering into his ear. "The powerful, charming, devastatingly handsome Goblin King, fallen for her? Willing to do anything she asks? Even, possibly, take the blade to himself? Nothing but a fantasy to her. The ever so powerful Goblin King, a figment of her imagination!" Scornful laughter filled the room. "This love has an iron grip on your will and soul. It's made you soft and weak, and that is something you cannot afford. Not with the threat, the threat of the other Fae courts. No. You must destroy the reason and source of this vile emotion, before it destroys you."

With a girlish giggle, the woman faded away, the wind blowing violently before disappearing completely.

* * *

-- Everybody wants a box of chocolates and a long stemmed rose, everybody knows...--

* * *

Sunlight pressed against the cloudy sky, turning them brilliant magentas, purples and oranges, as the sky that peeked through lightened from night's dark blue to grays, pinks and days blue. Reluctantly, Jareth and Sarah released one another, aware the sun was preparing itself for the day. With his usual flourish, Jareth produced a crystal, handing it to Sarah. No speeches, no tears, nothing that darkened the atmosphere the last time he had offered her one. Only his breath, whispered into her ear as the sky grew.

"I must leave now, but I will come back for you one day. I promise you that."

In a toss of feathers and cloth, Jareth transformed and took to the lightening sky, the pre-dawn light turning his feathers a vibrant gold.

* * *

Sarah opened her eyes, immediately adjusting to the dark. The figure within the full moonlight, while it would have caused any other person alarm, just ticked off as annoying. Sitting up, she stared at Jareth, who just stood, haloed in the seemingly ethereal light, gazing at her, looking almost...forlorn.

"Jareth?" Glaring at the clock, she looked back at him. "Back for another late night liaison?"

Almost not answering, Jareth shook his head. "For it to be another, it would have had to have happened. In truth, I was hoping you wouldn't wake up."

"Hm?" Sarah watched Jareth as he walked to the bed. "So, what, you wanted to take advantage of me in my sleep? You're not much for putting up a fight, are you?"

Though she obviously didn't know it, that final comment hit him fairly hard and low. Unable to stand any longer, Jareth dropped to his knees beside the bed, shaking slightly. Sarah's eyes mirrored concern, but didn't venture to ask what was wrong. Reaching out, Jareth gently touched her cheek, cradling it in his palm. Only able to look at him questioningly, Sarah simply watched as he pulled himself to her, arms caging her as his lips found hers in an intensely passionate kiss, threatening to send the room up in flames.

"Jareth..." Sarah sucked in a breath as Jareth closed his eyes, preparing for the duel blow.

"...I love you."

* * *

I wish I could have made Sarah's insanity more interesting. But I decided it would be more "fun" if we did this from Jareth's angle a bit. Who says Aian's mother was actually telling the truth, anyways? Last chapter coming up!


	5. Underground

Greetings one and all! This is the final (yes, FINAL) chapter! I know you've all been waiting anxiously, and most patiently for the conclusion to this. So, here it is, cut to order...and short! Horribly short, more of an epilogue, really. But to comfort your woes, I DO, in fact, have a sequel in the works. I had much fun writing this, and hope you'll read my other fics as well. Kudos!

"I hear your cry into the night - I hear you die within my fright - But now you've saved your mistake" -Angel of Mercy (HammerFall)

Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth. Who knew?

* * *

The sudden beat of wings and startled cry of a nameless bird snapped Sarah back to reality. Pain tore at her side, making her want to scream in frustration. She was so sick of being in pain. But the other side of her attention was caught by the owl beating a hasty exit, making her think of the night she bested his labyrinth.

'Why did he run?' Sarah rose from the bed, gripping her left side, aware that she was feeling blood. Wonderful. Making her way to the bathroom in the early morning darkness, she shoved the door open and clicked on the light. Standing before the medicine cabinet, she dared pulling her hand away from the wound, revealing a neat, two or three inch slice in her side. It wasn't deep, just long, painful, and straight. Pushing through the cabinet, she found the peroxide -no doubt what her stepmother used on her hair, Sarah mused- and cotton fished the cotton balls out of a draw before attending to her wound. "How am I going to cover this?" But the bleeding was superficial, stopping almost as soon as she dabbed it with the peroxide, but intensely painful, like someone had cut her with a sheet of paper.

Suddenly, bile seemed to rise in her throat, making her drop everything and run to the toilet, coughing and retching. But the only thing that dropped from her lips was what looked like a piece of peach, shaped in a triangular manner, as if used on an arrow. Sinking from her knees, Sarah began to shake with sobs of relief, even though there were no tears to join.

* * *

Kneeling on the cold stone of his castle, Jareth shook. What had he done? What had he almost done? He could almost hear the damned voice of that wind demon laughing at him, chiding him, and mocking him. He had been a fool. He had actually believed that killing Sarah was the only way. There was no doubt that mother and son had planned this, even at the cost of the son's life. Maybe they weren't expecting that. But the fact still remained. The Unseelie had tricked Jareth.

But that wasn't what was tearing him. He was ashamed that he almost took a blade to his beloved. Anything would have been better than that. What would have happened if he hadn't given into his longings and kissed her for a final time?

"She would be dead now." Jareth's voice cut through the silence, tearing at him. "And so would you."

He couldn't face her again, not now, maybe not ever again. Perhaps, one day, far from now, she would be able to forgive him.

The cold ground his only support; Jareth hung his head even further and wept.

* * *

Walking back to her room, Sarah stopped for a moment, eyeing the dagger lying, innocent in it's own right, on her bedcovers.

"That explains something." If this was how Jareth dealt with elf shot...

Unable to finish her thought, Sarah poked the dagger and jumped back, almost surprised it didn't do something, like get up and dance. Sarah cautiously picked up the jeweled weapon, looking at it closely. The onyx seemed to wink at her, making her slightly nervous. The silver blade was curved slightly, and the tip was red with blood. Her blood. Simply wiping the liquid off with a tissue, Sarah dropped the item in her underwear draw, covering it with socks that never again found their mates. Closing the drawer, Sarah walked back to her bed, climbing in beneath the covers. Staring at the still open window, Sarah finally closed her eyes, trying to fall back asleep.

Suddenly, eyes opening again, Sarah grinned. She couldn't help it. "Ill met by moonlight, proud Oberon..." Curling slightly, Sarah fell asleep.

And the window was forgotten, letting in the brilliant, unfiltered light of the full moon.

* * *

Bah. Alright, I admit, I'm a soft, hopeless romantic at heart. Kudos to one and all!

Thirteen O'clock

By Freyja SilverWillow

8/29/2004


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